Sunday, March 27, 2016

Growth Spurts

Bob and Cathie think I'm still growing.

I'm not joking about this. They legitimately think I'm still growing.

Tonight, after Easter dinner and birthday cake for my niece Emrie who wouldn't acknowledge me but didn't insult me either so I'm counting it as a victory, I gave Bob and Cathie hugs goodbye. And as I did, Bob inquisitively stated, "you sure are getting tall."

Not, "you sure have gotten tall." Not, "when did you get this tall." You guys. He didn't say those perfectly reasonable things a parent sometimes says to their children.

Let me zoom out a bit, in case this is your first time ever reading Stranger (and if this is, sorry for all of the confusion. If you're willing to devote upwards of 20 hours binge-reading the posts and comments, 75% of what you find here will make sense. Like in the "Pee Wee's Big Adventure makes sense" kind of way).
I'm a 31-year-old man. 31 going on 65. I stopped growing well over a decade ago. I have been 5 foot 11 inches since I was 18 years old. This has not changed. Like a normally developing human being, my life story is this:

I grew until I was 18, and then despite never having gone through puberty, I stopped growing. Then I got my foot disease, an appendectomy scar, wrinkles around the eyes suspiciously 18 months into law school, Tami, a throat chlamydia scare, early onset arthritis, with liberty and justice for all, amen.

Roll the credits.

But Bob and Cathie cannot accept that this is my life story. According to them, my life story is this:

And I really do mean it when I say they both have a problem in this area. Cathie is actually worse than Bob. Exactly every Christmas Cathie informs me that she believes I have grown at least one inch since the prior Christmas. She has me stand next to her as "proof" that she is not mistaken.

According to Cathie's calculations, I should be at least 7 foot 2 by now.

AND STILL GROWING.

And the observations don't stop at my ever-increasing height. Cathie has things to say about the appropriate nutrition for "a growing boy" like myself. Namely, that I should be consuming enough calories each meal to sustain a small village. IN ALASKA.

This was apparent tonight as she repeatedly poured more food onto my still half full plate despite my polite protests, responding with some variation of a distracted "oh that's nice dear" as I informed her about the perils of type two diabetes.

So I stood in the room full of family members tonight after Bob proudly informed the group that his growing boy has apparently hit a new growth spurt at the start of his fourth decade. I reminded them that I am nearly old enough now to have children who are done growing, Bob conceded slightly.

Stumbling upon a new theory I've only ever heard my 85-year-old grandma share about my size, he pondered, "maybe I'm just shrinking, then."

I walked out of the house, the word "shrinking" ringing in my ever-nostalgic mind that is becoming increasingly aware of my retirement-age parents' growing physical limitations and general mortality. And I didn't want to think any more about this or accept that it's true. So I decided that it's silly of me to be so anxious to become the stable and physically unchanging adult in my relationship with Bob and Cathie after spending nearly 32 years apparently being anything but that.

Sometimes I think I have had growth spurts, and then I realize my pants must have shrunk in the wash. It's the only thing that makes sense. Maybe it's about time I learned how to do laundry "the right way".

About two sentences into this my thought was "they're shrinking" - my parents did - my in-laws are. Perhaps they'll stop commenting on YOU growing if you would hurry up and provide them with some grandchildren to comment one!

I had a great-grandma who was shrinking while I was growing up; took a LONG time for my grandma to start shrinking in my adulthood. My mother never reached the point of shrinking. Daddy is probably shrinking as I type this.

There was honestly a year in my recent history when I grew an inch. A measurable inch. And then I was back to my standard 5'3" at the end of that year. Weirdest. Thing. Ever.

The shrinking thing has always bothered me. When I was a little kid one of my grandmothers was actively getting smaller. I have a photo of the two of us when I was 10 and she and I were the same height, as an adult in my 30s I'm 5'4"...so not exactly tall. My dad's military ID still says he's 5'10" (it never expires), but the top of his head only comes up to my chin when we are both standing. The only thing that bothers me more than the shrinking is how easily his skin bruises and breaks. He brushes against a wall while walking and all of the sudden his arm is gushing blood. Watching someone you love grow old and deteriorate is awful, so just focus on getting taller and eating enough for "a growing boy". I fully advocate escapism in this situation.

Awesomesauciness! You need to hurry and contact Imzy about this. People are really mad that you aren't over there already. I heard Tami swear. TWICE. Try to contact Imzy at https://www.imzy.com/contact or via DM on Twitter (@ImzyHQ).

Also, some people reported that they got the first email but the second one somehow ended up in their spam folder so maybe check that if you haven't already.

Yes, that is the same email I got, and I never got the second one either (not in spam folder) and I just keep waiting and waiting like they told me to... but maybe I will try the contact them route. Come on awesomesauciness, let's MAKE them let us in. What should our emails say, are we resorting to bribery or what?

Lee was lingering over at my comments section on my blog, but he's been absent from there for two or three days, so I suspect he's in Hawaii with his wife who loves to vacation in warm climes but refuses to let him MOVE away from the Frozen North. I'm paraphrasing, of course. I've already posted that he is missing over here, so hopefully, when he returns from his vacation, he'll fill us all in, in both places.

Oh, gosh, I really hope he is just in Hawaii or something. It would be so sad if he abandoned us! I was actually thinking that if one of our common Stranger commenters died, we would never know, and that would be so sad.

I'm barely 5 feet tall and past the age of growth spurts but sometimes people will tell me (with really optimistic voices) that I could still get taller. I usually just glare at them and kick their shins. I wouldn't mind being short if people didn't have to comment on it ALL THE TIME.